My grandma left Italy in her early twenties to move to Brazil with her fiancé, my grandad. My grandad never stepped foot in Italy again, my grandma only went back a few times.  Although my grandma’s accent still has strong italian vowels, she has immersed herself  into the culture of her adopted country. She loves having papaya for breakfast, tends to her own jabuticaba trees and watches telenovelas. Her cooking has retained strong Italian roots, but most of her original recipes now often take typical Brazilian ingredients. I am now going through that same process, like her I moved to England still young, and I rejected the culture when I first arrived, but after a while I hated being and outsider. I made a big effort to refine the British accent, watch local shows, read the news, ask questions (beans for breakfast?!?!?). I now get the dry sense of humour and how to add just the right amount of milk to breakfast tea. A lot of natives now tell me they wouldn’t even be able to tell I wasn’t English, if it wasn’t for my looks. You would think that after 16 years of effort I would consider this a compliment, but it actually makes